


Words Unspoken

by BoldlyGoingNowhereFast



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Klingons, M/M, Painful last words, There really are no-win scenarios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 04:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2011692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast/pseuds/BoldlyGoingNowhereFast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spock and Kirk finally speak their minds, their time together has run out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Major character death warning

Silence filled the air as the doors of the turbolift closed behind them, and while it was not logical to describe the lack of speech as stifling, that was exactly how Spock felt it to be. It seemed that he was not entirely in control of his emotions at this interval, and the man responsible for that was standing stiffly across from him.

“Captain, there are more options to consider,” Spock urged, his voice tense in an attempt to keep any emotion out of his tone. “This course of action will-”

“I know, Spock,” Kirk cut him off sharply, his grip on the handle of the lift white-knuckle tight. “I know I’m signing my own death warrant here, but think logically. Do you really believe there to be any other way the whole crew gets out safely? You of all people should know the odds.”

Spock was didn’t answer, and Kirk took his silence as an answer in the affirmative. Kirk was correct in this: there was no other way the _Enterprise_ could escape unscathed except by following the requests of the Klingon ship.

_“You will beam over your Captain alone, and you will leave him with us. Captain Kirk, if you do not comply, your entire crew will face our wrath.”_

The harsh words echoed through Spock’s mind, and the look of grim determination that had been etched on Kirk’s features since then told Spock that the Captain had made up his mind. Of course Captain James T. Kirk would sacrifice himself for his crew. It was one of the many traits responsible for Spock’s deep respect for Kirk, but right now a selfish part of Spock was desperately regretting that quality and its ability to take Kirk away from him.

They had a plan set in place. Kirk would beam over, and then the _Enterprise_ would take advantage of the Klingon ship’s lowered shields to hit them with everything they had. The Klingons would not be expecting such a brutal attack on the ship that held their Captain, and that was what they were counting on. There had been protests from the crew, but they all knew that once Kirk had his mind set on something, there was no persuading him.

Spock could feel the seconds ticking away, knowing that each moment they shared here was bringing them closer to the moment that they would split ways, never to see the other again. Spock had never felt so closed in, had never felt the possibilities narrowed down to such a painful point. This was a no-win scenario if there ever was one.

How terrible that it took the threat of loss to realize just what something, or someone, meant to you. How was it that one man, one Captain, could make Spock want to throw logic to the wind? Spock wished to grab the golden man across from him and hide where the Klingons could not find them. He wished it was not his responsibility to pilot the ship to safety after Kirk was gone. Spock wanted nothing more than to die beside his Captain, but instead he was to watch the explosion from the safety of the _Enterprise_ Bridge with the knowledge that Kirk’s last orders were for his own death.

“Spock.”

Spock blinked, his spiraling pattern of thoughts slowing to a halt as he realized the turbolift had stopped, and that Kirk was watching him. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, afraid that the little control he had left would shatter to pieces, and the repercussions were great if that were to happen. He longed to step forward and pull Jim into his embrace, to cup his face and hold him close, but he held himself back with a steel-like intensity.

“Spock, I know it hurts,” Kirk began haltingly. “There was so much I wished to do, so much life that was left for me to live.” He paused. “Life to live with you, Spock, and for all of that potential to be taken away.” He cleared his throat painfully. “I thought we had forever.”

It was painful to keep eye contact with the intense expression on Kirk’s face, but he forced himself to do so. Kirk’s final hour was drawing to a close, and Spock would do everything in his power to comply with his Captain’s wishes.

“God, Spock, I always imagined my last words would mean something, you know? I find when faced with death, I have no idea what to say to you that would be enough.”

Spock suddenly found that he had to speak, Vulcan instincts be damned. It wasn’t just his Human half that rang with sorrow, and Spock knew dampening his feelings now would harm him in the long run. They had faced enough near-deaths together for Spock to know what it felt like to lose Kirk. He would not regret the things unsaid, if he could help it.

“Jim, I find I already grieve,” he said roughly, stepping closer to Kirk in the confined space. “I grieve the loss of what could have been.”

Kirk’s eyes were shining. “Spock, you don’t have to do this.”

“I must. You are worth too much.” No longer able to resist, Spock reached out a hand and pressed it lightly to the side of Jim’s face and watched in awe as Kirk’s eyelids fluttered. The skin-to-skin contact sang through his blood.

“Oh, Spock,” Kirk said quietly, his gaze soft. Kirk lifted his hand and placed it under Spock’s chin and ran a thumb tenderly along Spock’s lower lip. Before he could allow reason to take hold, Spock leaned forward and claimed the human’s lips the same way Kirk had claimed his soul, wishing with everything that he had that this first kiss would not also be their last.

Kirk was frozen only momentarily, gasping in surprise into Spock’s mouth, but it was only moments before he was kissing back, pouring everything he had into the meeting of their lips. He cupped a hand around the back of Spock’s neck, his fingers carding through the short hairs there, and his other hand found Spock’s waist. The kiss deepened, and Spock pushed the Captain back against the turbolift, pressing against him as much of his body as he could.

The darkness behind Spock’s closed lids sparked with light, and his blood boiled with desire he had thought buried deep. Jim Kirk, to his last minutes alive, had the ability of pulling emotion from Spock, and now it would cost them both dearly.

Spock wondered if they could both die like this, in this passionate embrace, so that the pain of separation would not be known. Spock knew it was an illogical thought, but the slide of lips and tongue against his own was more important than logic and reason. The body pressed against his was life itself, and the thought of that life extinguished caused a sorrow deeper than Spock had ever experienced.

A low whine escaped Spock’s throat when Kirk pulled back.

“Spock, if I kiss you any longer I won’t be able to leave you.” His voice was rough and his eyes were the brightest Spock had ever seen them.

Spock pulled away from him entirely, and his body and mind cried out at the loss. “Jim, you must know what I feel. _Ashayam,_ you are a part of my soul, my _katra_.” Spock almost winced at the shaky quality of his voice, but he knew Jim was the one person he could safely allow to hear his break of control. Jim, who meant so much.

Jim closed his eyes. “Spock, if I could, I would stay with you. Forever.” He let out a shaky breath. “But to save you and everyone on this ship, I would do anything, and if that means sacrificing myself, I have to do it. Damn it, I love you, Spock, and to hell with those Klingons for making me say it now when you deserve so much more than that.”

Jim was silent for a moment longer, and when he opened his eyes, Captain Kirk was back, and there again was the steely resolve that had cowed many an opponent. Kirk reached out and restarted the turbolift, and it was too soon before they were in the transporter room, under the sorrowful gaze of Mr. Scott.

Jim stepped in front of Spock and lifted his first two fingers outwards, and Spock pressed his own against them in the traditional show of Vulcan affection. A buzz of sorrow and love passed between them through both the contact of their fingers and their eyes, and then Kirk was backing away, and Spock was bereft. Spock knew that was the last time he would ever touch his Captain.

Kirk stepped onto the transporter pad and took one last deep breath. “Energize.” Kirk’s voice was even, though Spock was sure if he spoke now his wouldn’t be.

As Kirk was swallowed by the golden light, his fiery gaze was pinned on Spock, and when he finally disappeared completely, Spock felt the color in the room bleed out to grey.

He allowed himself only seconds to stare at the empty transporter pad. He was needed on the bridge.

 

As the bright flare of the explosion faded away behind them, Spock felt his Vulcan controls come up around him, closing away his vulnerabilities and emotions. James T. Kirk had taught him to feel, and it was with his memory that Spock clamped down on all sentiment.

Humans spoke highly of love and the motivations and feelings it prompted, but Spock decided that if this was the end result, no emotion was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry about that...


End file.
